


Fuck You! Angst!

by Starthewolf1106



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective CT-7567 | Rex, Rex is a good bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starthewolf1106/pseuds/Starthewolf1106
Summary: In which Rex becomes Anakin’s therapistThis was originally part of another series of mine, but I decided to make it separate. This has been of popular demand for a while now. Enjoy!Edited on November 1st, 2020 to fix some simple spelling/grammar mistakes. Also, I have decided to make this a series of one-shots where Rex (or someone else) helps out Anakin with his many problems. I apologize for any disappointment or inconvenience, but I feel this would work the best.Side note, my birthday is in five days (at the time of this update)!
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	Fuck You! Angst!

The mission hadn’t been noteworthy in any sense of the word. It was mild at best, boring at worst. No, the only thing noteworthy was the constant aching in his right arm. The arm he… lost… to Dooku. 

To be perfectly honest, it had been bothering him for much longer. Whenever he got particularly stressed, small twinges of pain would shoot through him and if the stress was bad enough, what felt like twinges of lightning ran through his non-existent veins. 

The atmosphere in the shuttle back to Coruscant was quiet, if not a little tense. Almost everyone from Rex to the pilot Anakin couldn’t remember the name of was silent, in a relaxed kind of way. Everyone except Anakin. His pain and discomfort led to restlessness, and despite his best efforts, eventually, someone noticed. And of course, that someone had to be Rex.

“You alright, Sir?” Rex questioned, concern heavy on his features yet at the same time hidden from anyone unfamiliar to him.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” Anakin tried to assure him, but he sensed that Rex didn’t really believe him. Luckily, the clone dropped it and returned to the contemplative yet peaceful trance he probably picked up from the Jedi. 

_Not from me, that’s for sure._ Anakin thought dryly, the thought bringing a small smirk to his face.

That smile quickly vanished with another stab of pain running through his shoulder. It occurred to him that he should probably see a medic about this, at the very least. Then he immediately brushed the thought aside. He had a severe dislike for the medical wing. He would have R2D2 run some scans on his metallic arm and make some adjustments and that would be the end of it.

However, as the hours dragged on and the pain only grew more intense, he was forced somewhat to re-evaluate his initial plan. When it got to the point where he could only lean against the shuttle wall and grimace he knew he had to do something. Sighing, he just hoped his discomfort wasn’t too obvious to the clones.

As predicted, his trip to the medical wing was less than desirable. They told him to simply take off the prosthetic for three days and see if there was any improvement. The mere thought of being without one of his arms for three entire days was utterly unappealing. However, they had threatened to tell Kix or Obi-Wan or potentially both, and he really didn’t want to deal with that. So, with some (a lot of) hesitation, he removed the prosthetic and handed it over to the medics.

Immediately, he felt off-balance and exposed. He never did trust the temple. He could, however, trust that Rex or Obi-Wan would protect him. The other masters he was more… unsure about. Shrugging the thought off, he slinked towards his quarters, trying to attract as little attention as possible for once. Actually, the more he thought of it, the more he _really_ didn’t want anyone to see him without his arm. In fact, he suspected the reason may have something to do with the fact that on Tatooine, if you showed even an ounce of weakness, it could be fatal. It irked him to no end that even through all these years his past still bothered him that much. He briefly considered telling someone about that, but then he realized nobody would care. Why would they?

Reaching his room after what felt like an eternity, he slunk inside and flopped down onto his bed with a groan.

He was _not_ happy with this… situation.

Pouting, he sulked in bed for about an hour before he heard a knock on the door. Sitting up, Anakin quickly put a blanket on his right shoulder, perfectly aware that it made him look somewhat ridiculous, but at least it covered up his arm, or lack thereof, a tad bit. 

“Come in.” He stated, resenting the fact he couldn’t twine his fingers together. A clone nervously poked his unhelmeted head in. He looked nervous, and he held a box in his arm.

“Yes?” He prompted the clone, unhappy at the lingering stare at his arm before the clone’s eyes met his.

“Sir, some of the medics told me you would prefer to have your food delivered to you?” The clone said, sounding somewhat unsure. At least he was still slightly intimidating. Or the clone felt awkward. Or a strange mixture of both. Whatever, at least he got his food.

Nodding to the nervous wreck of a clone, he took the box from him and offered him a smile. The clone simply nodded briefly and backed out of the room, as if he expected to be reprimanded by being there.

Interesting.

 _Oh, well._ He thought, opening the box with his good arm, only to find uncut meat of some sort, accompanied by a knife and fork that seemed to taunt him. He could always try to eat it whole, but he supposed that went against everything Padme and Palpatine were trying to teach him about ‘table manners’. So, in the meantime, he ate the mashed potatoes and whatever vegetable they came with. Resentfully, he cast a glance at the box as he closed it and set it on his desk. He hated wasting food almost as much as sand.

Sighing, he supposed he may as well get some paperwork done, seeing as the medics had probably relieved him of his duties for the next few days. Immediately he was presented with a problem. As soon as the flimsy was in front of him and he had a writing utensil, he realized that he couldn’t write with his left hand. He usually relied on his right, and that showed when Anakin tried to write a simple word and it came out looking like a toddler wrote it. Sighing, he tried a few more times before giving up. In a last-ditch effort, he tried using the force to do so, but it was too difficult and too draining for him to do so for long.

To make matters somehow worse, the pain still hadn’t lessened since he took his prosthetic off almost an hour. Shaking himself, he supposed he would try to scroll through the holo-net. That didn’t require both arms, did it?

Turns out it did.

Feeling like simultaneously wanting to slam his head against the table repeatedly and wanting to pass out in his bed, he groaned. Only adding to his discomfort was his intense hunger, which he chalked up to not being able to fully eat his dinner. Between his frustration, his hunger, and his pain he knew he wouldn’t be able to get anything done, let alone sleep if he didn’t do something to rectify the situation. But that would most likely require him to go out and talk to someone, and he wasn’t exactly feeling sociable at that moment. And who would he go to? Ahsoka had left and Obi-Wan would be far too busy to bother helping him. That left… of course! 

Springing out of his chair, Anakin exited his room and scanned the hallways for any others. Luckily, it seemed to be mostly empty. Strolling through the walkways as leisurely as he could, he made his way to the part of the temple clones enjoyed going to the most. It didn’t really have a name other than being dubbed ‘the hangout’ by some of the younglings. The clones, Rex especially, would sometimes go there to unwind after a long day or hard mission, and while he certainly didn’t count the day’s mission as being ‘hard’, it was still a good place to start.

Fortunately, he was right on the credits with his guess. Unfortunately, Rex was with another group of clones Anakin didn’t recognize. He was considering turning around and going back to his room when Rex noticed him and smiled widely, attracting the attention of the other clones, who he now realized were rookies, or ‘shinies’ and Rex and Cody would call them. 

Great. 

The clone’s eyes widened comically with awe as they stared at the infamous general, with most of them trying their absolute hardest to not look at his missing arm, to the point where a few were sweating. Although amusing, he really did not feel like talking about it right now. Unfortunately, one of the clones didn’t get the memo and cleared his throat awkwardly, risking a glance at the missing appendage. Now everyone, including Rex, was staring at it.

Wonderful.

Scowling, he glared at Rex, who luckily picked up on his inherent discomfort.

“Alright, move along Shinies.” Rex scolded, though not with any real heat behind it. The other clones simply nodded and moved along, albeit somewhat flustered.

“Sir?” Rex asked, and Anakin relaxed a bit.

“I have a… favor to ask of you,” Anakin stated, and then he realized just how stupid this was and started looking for reasons to back out when Rex gave him a smile - a _genuine_ smile - and nodded. It was… rare for Anakin to receive an actual, genuine smile with no hidden meanings or motives behind it, even from Obi-Wan. He supposed Padme and Ahsoka would occasionally smile at him like that, but it always held something else to it. This was simply what it was. A smile. Anakin found he quite liked the way it made him feel lighter and would try to encourage this in the future.

Then again, that probably wasn’t the healthiest mindset. Whatever. 

Realizing he had yet to answer Rex, he turned his attention to the present.

“Oh, uh, sorry. It’s just that, I um…” Anakin started, cursing himself for being so awkward, and admiring Rex for just listening to him with a patience Anakin doubted he would ever understand.

“I… needed help with something, but it’s kind of embarrassing. You know what? I’ll figure it out.” And with that, Anakin lost his nerve, despite the fact that Rex had done nothing but stand there and listen. He supposed that distancing himself before he got hurt was typical of him. Add that to the list of things he needed to change about himself.

Before he could scamper off, Rex rolled his eyes - actually rolled his eyes in genuine amusement at his actions, not Anakin himself but at his actions, how strange was that? - and smiled. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’d be happy to help with whatever task you need,” Rex stated with such certainty that Anakin almost believed him. Almost.

A part of Anakin knew that it was just because Anakin was a useful asset in the war and that Rex wanted to take advantage of that, but another part of him wanted to ignore that and at least pretend he had a friendship.

“Hmm.” Was all Anakin managed to say before nodding and walking out of the room, with Rex in tow.

They walked back to his room in silence - Anakin’s being tense and Rex’s being friendly, though he still couldn’t comprehend why - and entered in a similar manner.

“What did you need me for?” Rex asked, polite and curious as always.

“I… I needed some help cutting my dinner,” Anakin mumbled, feeling heat rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. Rex stared at him in silence for a few moments, before shaking his head slightly and chuckling. 

“You could have just said so, man,” Rex replied in a tone that was far more casual than Anakin had ever heard him use. Looking up in surprise, he found Rex already opening the box and cutting the meat into chewable slices like it was any other task. Confusion flooded him. Perhaps Rex just really wanted to keep him as an ally? That didn’t make much sense, as Anakin had always considered Rex his closest ally outside of the other Jedi, but maybe Rex didn’t see it the same way. Perhaps he should try a little harder to show his appreciation?

Anakin mused over these thoughts in silence while Rex hummed something, still dutifully cutting up the steak.

“There you go, Sir! All cut up. Anything else you need?” Rex asked cheerfully, snapping Anakin back to reality. Blinking at him a few times in confusion, Anakin shook himself and pushed those thoughts away for another time.

“Oh, uh, yeah actually. I… kinda need some help doing some paperwork…” Anakin despised how he had to rely on someone else, even if that someone else was the person he could say he trusted the most, though that wasn’t saying much. He had difficulty trusting people, or so he’d been told.

If Rex noticed anything about the way Anakin shuffled awkwardly like a Padawan being asked a difficult question, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to the desk and the messy stack of papers on top of it.

“These ones?” Rex questioned, to which he nodded the affirmative. 

“Alright, then. Just tell me what you need written and I’ll write it for you,” Rex stated it was the most obvious thing in the world. If Anakin was puzzled before, he was definitely confused now. 

As he spoke the words he needed to be written down, he mused over the options again and again, but none of them fit right. Finally, Anakin simply stopped and stared at Rex, trying desperately to understand just _what_ he wanted. Did he want assurance that, if something happened to him that someone would care? Did he want power? Influence? What in the galaxy did he want?!

“Sir?” Rex asked, uncertainly. He looked worried, and it took a minute for Anakin to realize his worry was _for_ him, not about him as it seemed to be in everyone else.

“What… Why are you doing this?” Anakin asked slowly, eyes narrowed slightly in confusion and suspicion.

“What?” Rex replied, looking genuinely baffled.

“Why are you being so… friendly?” Anakin rephrased his question, his eyes narrowing even more at the apparent bewilderment of the clone. 

Said clone seemed to realize what he meant and his eyes widened in hurt, real, genuine hurt that made Anakin cringe on the inside. He valued Rex, he well and truly did, and he didn’t want to see him hurt.

“Are we… I thought we were… friends…” Rex whispered, seemingly to himself. Anakin had to blink in shock at this. Friends? Why would _Rex_ of all people want to be _his_ friend? Rex, who was calm, collected, who always had a backup plan and would follow his allies to the end of the universe because he was so loyal it hurt? Why would Rex want to be friends with _him_ , who was very nearly the polar opposite, no matter what anyone said? He was irrational, ignorant, and suffered from frequent mood swings. Why in the _galaxy_ would _Rex_ of all people want to be _his_ friend? It was all too astounding to comprehend. He didn’t _deserve_ to have friends, he knew what happened to those he got too close to. They died, or worse, they _left_ , and he would break if Rex left too.

“Why?” Anakin eventually asked, and Rex bristled at that.

“It’s just that we always interacted with a very friendly tone and we had grown close so I thought that-” Anakin cut him off, shaking his head. He didn’t mean why Rex thought of them as friends, he meant why Rex wanted to be _his_ friend.

“No, I meant, why me? Why do you want _me_ as a friend?” Anakin questioned, and he was aware that he was letting even more weakness show through. He hated it, but at the same time, it felt good to unload some of his guilt and self-pity. 

Rex frowned at this, and Anakin found he liked the smile much more.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re cool, smart, brave, just a good guy in general,” Rex stated, and Anakin ignored the obvious pun there because right now wasn’t the time. Instead, he puzzled over those words. He knew he wasn’t, he only pretended he was because he _needed_ others to see his worth because if they didn’t they would cast him out and he couldn’t be abandoned again.

“I… I’m not, though. I pretend to be so that people want to keep me around,” Anakin eventually managed to get out, choking down the raw emotion in his throat. He honestly didn’t know why he was telling Rex this.

“Why wouldn’t they keep you around?” Rex questioned, sounding so confused and so innocent that one could think that he was a child. Did he really not understand? Was it a clone thing? If so, he really thought that, out of everyone, a clone would understand the most.

“Because if I’m no longer useful, why would they?” Anakin said, bluntly. Rex flinched back at this slightly. Perhaps too bluntly? What had he said wrong this time?

“Is… is that how you measure your own worth? Through how much you bring to the table?” Rex whispered, sounding horrified. Again, Anakin found that he was lost. Of course that’s how he measured himself! Didn’t everyone else have at least similar standards? If you can’t prove your worth, why would you be kept around? If a tool was broken, why keep it? If it would just take up space, wouldn’t it be more logical to toss it out?

“Is… Is that not normal?” Anakin pressed, hesitantly. He had assumed everyone else thought the same way. Up until this conversation he had been _convinced_ everyone shared that basic belief, even Dooku and the Separatists.

Rex didn’t answer, just shook his head sadly, a miserable frown still plastered on his face. He decided to use the same tool analogy that had been drilled, and sometimes beaten, into his head since he was a child.

“Why continue to use a tool if it’s broken? Why let it continue to take up space and resources when you could just toss it out? If it’s served its purpose, why continue to have it?” Anakin tried his best to state it in a manner Rex would understand. Rex paused, looking into Anakin’s eyes as if searching for something. Apparently coming up empty-handed, he sighed.

“So, you’re saying that when a tool isn’t useful anymore it should be tossed out? And in that analogy, you’re the tool?” Rex rephrased, and Anakin nodded with a smile. Now he was getting it! Then, to his confusion and disappointment, Rex just sighed a long, deep sigh and looked at him with such sorrow, grief, and sympathy that Anakin wondered if he had said the wrong thing.

“Oh, kriff. Training never covered this,” Rex murmured to himself, before turning his attention to Anakin.

“General, the value of one’s life shouldn’t be measured by their usefulness,” Rex told him with sincerity. Anakin blinked at him, scanning the clone’s gaze for any hint of deception.

“Why not?” He eventually asked, if only to alleviate the awkward tension that had begun to form. Rex sighed before speaking. Anakin found he really hated that sound.

“Because a person has worth, even if they don’t have any inherent use,” Rex tried to explain, and it was Anakin’s turn to frown. That didn’t make any sense whatsoever. If every being had worth, wouldn’t the worth diminish? If every being had worth, then why were practices such as slavery allowed? No, Anakin couldn’t accept that truth (or handle it, to be perfectly honest). If Rex was right, Anakin’s entire world view would be shattered. Ever since he could remember he was told he was worthless if he couldn’t do anything, whether that be working or podracing or the… other thing. If he couldn’t prove his worth, then he was more trouble than he was worth. He’s had more than one ally end up succumbing to that philosophy. He would know, he had had to dig their graves himself.

No, he simply couldn’t accept what Rex had said because it meant that people - people he knew and cared about - died for nothing. That his pain and suffering were all unnecessary. That the years of torture had all been for naught. The beatings, the hungry nights and grueling days, the sting of the whip on his back, the worried, tear-streaked face of his mother, the friends lost along the way, the dangerous podraces that made him feel _alive_ in an otherwise desolate life, all of that? For nothing? Their sacrifices in vain and their deaths avoidable? It would mean that everything he had gone through was through nothing but malice. That meant that everyone, including his own mother, had died just because some higher being, whether that be a master or a deity, had demanded it, not because they outlived their purpose as he had originally told himself.

That thought killed him, and he couldn’t fathom such an idea. Not when everything he had ever known was at stake.

“N-No, that… That can’t be true, because that would mean… That would mean that everything has... They all died… All those years…” He stuttered through tears that glistened in his eyes and threatened to spill. He truly despised how weak he was. If he were back on Tatooine, he would have been killed, or worse, beaten and scolded by his master. 

Black swirls bounced around his vision like asteroids in a gravity storm, threatening to crash into him. Anakin noticed that he was suddenly on the ground, with a very concerned-looking Rex kneeling over him. Anakin decided that he didn’t like this version of Rex, either. This Rex was much too sad and worried for his liking.

Black encased his vision once more. He could hear what sounded like someone yelling, but it sounded muffled, like he was covered in sand, rough and dangerous and awful, choking everything else out until there was nothing but sand. Sand…

Suddenly, he was back in Tatooine, small and fragile and _weak_ . Fear was what kept him alive. Suffering was what made him want to die. Anger made him want others to die. Those three thoughts cycled through his head over and over again for no other reason but to distract himself from the sting of the whip on his shoulders and the tears streaming down his face. He didn’t know what he did wrong this time, or any other time for that matter. He was screaming and crying out for his mother, but she wasn’t here with him, and that made him nervous. He wasn’t safe without her. Their masters, the Hutts, were dangerous and mean and he didn’t like them. They hurt him, and worse, they sometimes hurt mommy. His tears pooled in the sand underneath him and he felt someone grab him. Resisting, he screamed and fought back to his fullest extent. He knew that it would only result in more punishment, but he was scared and in pain, a wild animal backed into a corner but most importantly he was _weak._ He hated it and he hated everyone for making him feel this way and he just wanted his _mommy_ and _where was she_?! 

No matter how hard he tried to struggle, there were always more hands pushing him down. He was screaming, fighting as hard as he possibly could, forgetting about his promise to his mother that he would keep his abilities hidden because he was _just so scared._ He was choking, he couldn’t breathe. No matter how hard he tried to breathe in oxygen he just couldn’t do it. Why couldn’t he breathe?! 

It was hot and dark and arid in this room and he _hated_ it he wanted _out_ he couldn’t take it anymore! He needed his mother and _where was she?! What did they do to her?!_

 _Calm yourself, you must._ A voice said from all around him. Calm? How could he be calm? They had taken her away and left him in darkness and they _hurt_ him and he was so _weak!_ Couldn’t they see that? He was _weak_ and he _hated_ that, he hated it more than anything else because it meant he couldn’t protect her, couldn’t protect himself, couldn’t protect anyone! 

Then he saw _him_ , the man responsible for so much of his pain that it was impossible not to hate him. He was getting closer, his body inching forwards but his eyes remaining locked on the boy’s face and he wanted to puke he was beyond terrified! He held the ever-familiar whip in his hand and that unpleasant grin and he _needed_ to get away he _needed to get away now!_

 _Skywalker! Calm down! It’s not real!_ Another voice told him, but he couldn’t bring himself to listen. How could this not be real? The sound of the electrified whip dragging against the sandy floor, getting ever closer to him was as real as every other time. Where was his mother?! She could fix this! She could make this better!

He couldn’t move his arms or his legs. What did they do to him? He needed to be able to run! He needed to fight! He needed to leave! 

Then, _he_ raised his hand and then brought down the whip onto Anakin’s bare back over and over again, blood mixing with sweat, tears, and sand. Pain blinded him and sent sparks of agony racing through his veins. Again and again and even more despite Anakin being so _certain_ he couldn’t take it anymore he still did it. Whatever he did must’ve been really bad. He couldn’t afford to disappoint his masters or anyone else for that manner. It was much too dangerous.

Darkness began to ensnare him, and despite his hands still being tied to a pole, he slumped to the ground and let the familiar black encase him. _He_ wasn’t so merciful, however. 

Scowling, _he_ moved forwards and kicked Anakin in the ribs, very roughly. Anakin didn’t have the energy to scream or move or anything, just kind of moan in pain and fear and acceptance; and that last part really scared him because it just made him all the more weak. Tears continued to spill from his eyes despite him not having had anything to drink in what felt like days. Pain ebbed and pulsed through his mind but slowly faded along with _his_ screaming and everything else. Finally, everything stopped, and he was fully consumed by the void.

The lead medic finally stepped back after the drug had taken effect. Masters Yoda., Mace Windu and Obi-Wan watched from a distance, each with various states of concern. Obi-Wan was on the verge of a panic attack, Yoda seemed deeply concerned, and Mace frowned deeply and he too seemed upset. 

The young man still twitched and whimpered occasionally, despite the heavy sedatives. Skywalker’s sudden feelings of panic and pain and hate had all called them there, as well as almost every Jedi in the temple. Luckily, some of the clones stepped in to try and maintain damage control. 

There, in Skywalker’s dorm, was a panicking clone, the one who called himself ‘Rex’, trying to administer first-aid to one very panicked Anakin Skywalker. Anakin’s state had been… unsettling, to say the least. He was on the floor, shaking with tears streaming down his face and wild eyes that looked as if they belonged to a wild animal. He kept screaming and crying. Yoda remembered him screaming out ‘Where is she?!’ a few times as well, along with ‘What did they do to her?!’. What bothered him most were the small, fragile cries, all in Huttese and some other language he couldn’t identify, belonging to a frightened child that escaped what he had thought to be one of his strongest allies. They were all crying out for his mother, and that did very little to soothe his nerves. 

Using the force, he had tried to speak to Skywalker, but he was shoved away. The knight was too panicked, his pain and suffering too great. Then, the medics rushed in, and everything somehow got worse.

The moment the medics went to grab him (though their intentions were good and they were remarkably gentle), Skywalker had truly become the cornered animal everyone could see in his eyes. He had used the Force to fling everyone against the wall, probably without even realizing it. Master Windu decided to try and reach him next, with more or less the same result. Skywalker exuded nothing but suffering and panic, so thick and choking that it was near tangible. Eventually, Skywalker’s grip loosened and they all fell to the ground. Shaking off their shock, the medics rushed back over to Skywalker. Even when he screamed and thrashed and fought with all his strength, they dodged and weaved and somehow maneuvered him onto the stretcher, and then proceeded to tie his arm and legs down. This made Skywalker panic even more, however, yet the medics wasted no time and rushed him over to the Jedi healers already waiting there for them.

Following them, the three Masters realized they had no idea how to deal with this. They’d figure it out eventually, Yoda was sure, but this entire thing still concerned him. This wasn’t a vision, which is what they had initially thought. No. It was a memory, and that scared everyone.

Rex smiled softly as he leaned into the wall of the shuttle. While the mission hadn’t been nearly as exciting as they had hoped, it still helped to calm their nerves. Well, everyone’s nerves except General Skywalker’s, who seemed to be rubbing his mechanical arm in discomfort.

“You alright, Sir?” He asked, concerned for his friend’s well-being. 

Anakin glanced at Rex with a smile he could tell was forced.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” Anakin tried to assure him, but Rex knew he was lying. Sighing internally, he focused his thoughts elsewhere. Skywalker could be stubborn, but he was no fool. If he really needed help he would ask… Right?

Brushing the thought off, he instead focused on the rookie pilot they had entrusted for the mission. Realistically, Rex knew that they had the best pilot in the Republic next to him, but they had needed Skywalker on the ground. So, he had instead called in a new clone who went by the nickname ‘Peregrine’. Peregrine had proved himself on the battlefield, and Rex was confident he would become a good soldier in no time.

His thoughts the rest of the way were focused on Anakin, who seemed to be getting worse by the minute. Eventually, the general grunted and sat with his back to the shuttle wall with a grimace. Shooting a worried frown in his direction, Rex’s concern grew. General Skywalker either didn’t notice or ignored Rex’s concern and continued to wince and rub his shoulder. 

When they landed, Rex was relieved to see Anakin heading towards the Medical Wing. Hopefully, he’d get some help. In the meantime, he had some catching up to do with some of the new clones hanging around the temple. Better late than never, he supposed.

A few hours passed until Rex saw General Skywalker again. Rex had been hanging out with a small group of shinies, all of them who wanted to hear some heroic tales from Captain Rex himself. He was just wrapping up one of those said tales when he spotted Skywalker standing in the entranceway, looking uncertain. He was also missing his mechanical arm, Rex noticed.

Smiling widely, Rex nodded in Skywalker’s direction, which led to the other clones turning and gaping at the legendary General. He could also tell that all of them were trying their very best not to acknowledge Skywalker’s missing arm. Then, one of the clones (Rex thinks he went by Coyote, but he wasn’t certain) cleared his throat and glanced down. Rex couldn’t help but look as well, but only for a second. Noticing the scowl Skywalker was throwing his way, Rex quickly collected himself.

“Alright, move along Shinies!” He scolded them and they scampered off, probably grateful for a chance to get out of the awkward situation.

Turning to Anakin, Rex smiled at him.

“Sir?” He asked, relieved to see Anakin relax a bit.

“I have a… favor to ask of you,” Anakin stated, before trailing off and blushing slightly, looking somewhat flustered. It was adorable, really. These rare moments where Anakin let some of his true self shine were some of Rex’s favorites.

Unable to help himself, he smiled. He smiled because he really enjoyed being around Anakin, who always seemed to know what he was doing and how to do it. He was strong and good-hearted, and Rex respected that.

It took Anakin a few more seconds to answer, but Rex was fine with waiting. He quite enjoyed the unguarded look on his friend’s face.

“Oh, uh, sorry. It’s just that, I um…” Anakin started again, only to trail off once more. Repressing a snicker, Rex watched intently. This was rather amusing. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he simply waited.

“I… needed help with something, but it’s kind of embarrassing. You know what? I’ll figure it out,” Anakin continued and turned to leave. Unable to contain his eye-roll, Rex smiled at Anakin’s antics.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’d be happy to help with whatever task you need,” Rex stated with certainty. It was true, after all. Anakin was his friend and Rex truly treasured his friendships.

Anakin hummed in acknowledgment and led Rex to his quarters.

They were both silent, and Rex smiled at how nervous Anakin looked.

Entering the room, Anakin turned to Rex and he noticed that the pink shade in Anakin’s cheeks was back.

“What did you need me for?” Rex asked, as politely as he could muster.

“I… I needed some help cutting my dinner,” Anakin mumbled, and Rex paused. This was what this was all about? Shaking his head, he chuckled softly. That was _such_ an Anakin thing to do. 

“You could’ve just said so, man,” Rex responded, with another affectionate roll of his eyes.

Spotting the box in the corner, he immediately went to work cutting the meat into sizable chunks. Anakin just stood there in confusion (over what, Rex had no clue) while Rex hummed softly and finished cutting up the meal. Turning back to the General, he motioned towards the box.

“There you go, Sir! All cut up. Anything else you need?” Rex asked cheerfully, enjoying the time he spent with his best friend. Anakin blinked at him a few times and shook himself before answering.

“Oh, uh, yeah actually. I… kinda need some help doing some paperwork…” Anakin mumbled, though why he was embarrassed was a mystery to Rex.

Turning to the desk, he motioned to a stack of paperwork sitting on top of it in a small pile.

“These ones?” He questioned, and Anakin nodded at him. 

“Alright, then. Just tell me what you need written and I’ll write it for you,” Rex stated, and they continued on like that for a bit until Anakin suddenly stopped.

“Sir?” Rex asked, concerned. Anakin turned to him, confusion welling in his eyes.

“What… Why are you doing this?” Anakin asked slowly, eyes narrowed slightly in confusion and suspicion.

“What?” Rex replied, genuinely baffled.

“Why are you being so… friendly?” Anakin rephrased. It took a few seconds for Rex to realize what he meant.

Eyes widening in hurt, he stared at the man he thought was his best friend. Was he wrong? Did he read the signals wrong? He had been so sure…

“Are we… I thought we were… friends…” Rex whispered to himself, feeling broken.

“Why?” Anakin eventually asked. Bristling, Rex felt humiliated and unsure.

“It’s just that we always interacted with a very friendly tone and we had grown close so I thought that-” Rex began, but Anakin cut him off with a shake of his head.

“No, I meant, why me? Why do you want _me_ as a friend?” Anakin questioned, and Rex frowned at him in confusion. What? Why _wouldn’t_ he want him as a friend? He was kind, loyal, brave, smart, in control, and most importantly, good-hearted. Deciding to say as much, he looked Anakin straight in the eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re cool, smart, brave, just a good guy in general,” Rex stated, sincere in every word.

“I… I’m not, though. I pretend to be so that people want to keep me around,” Anakin eventually replied, sounding as if he were choking on his words. Rex was shocked by this. Did his General truly believe he wasn’t all those things? Rex would fist-fight him if that were the case because he was _wrong._

“Why wouldn’t they keep you around?” Rex questioned instead because that was probably the biggest concern here.

“Because if I’m no longer useful, why would they?” Anakin said, bluntly. His words hit Rex like a freighter. 

_Why would they? Because you’re the best person I’ve ever met, Force be damned!_

“Is… is that how you measure your own worth? Through how much you bring to the table?” Rex whispered, unable to keep his horror out of his voice.

“Is… Is that not normal?” Anakin pressed, hesitantly. Rex felt even more shattered now, but for an entirely different reason. Now, he wasn’t hurt because of his friend, he was hurting for his friend, who believed that he was worthless as a person if he couldn’t do whatever was needed of him. It broke Rex, because Anakin was so much more than that, especially in his eyes, where Anakin was a hero. His hero. 

Shaking his head sadly, Rex frowned, his heartbreak probably showing.

“Why continue to use a tool if it’s broken? Why let it continue to take up space and resources when you could just toss it out? If it’s served its purpose, why continue to have it?” Anakin continued after a minute of silence. Rex mused over his words, not believing that Anakin, _his hero_ , thought so lowly of himself.

Looking into Anakin’s eyes, he searched for anything, literally anything that would make this situation better. Rex sighed when he found nothing.

“So, you’re saying that when a tool isn’t useful anymore it should be tossed out? And in that analogy, you’re the tool?” Rex rephrased, and Anakin nodded with a smile that made Rex’s pain jump to new heights. Sighing once more, he fought back the tears as they threatened to spill out into the world.

“Oh, kriff. Training never covered this,” Rex murmured to himself, before turning his attention to Anakin.

“General, the value of one’s life shouldn’t be measured by their usefulness,” Rex tried to put all of his sincerity into his voice, trying desperately to get Anakin to believe him. Anakin only blinked and gazed into the clone’s eyes.

“Why not?” He eventually asked, and Rex sighed again.

“Because a person has worth, even if they don’t have any inherent use,” Rex tried to explain, and it was Anakin’s turn to frown. Rex willed him to understand, willed him to realize that he was _so much more_ than what he thought.

“N-No, that… That can’t be true, because that would mean… That would mean that everything has... They all died… All those years…” Anakin, _his idol_ who had always seemed so strong and unbreakable stammered, tears welling in his eyes. Rex didn’t know who ‘they’ were, and was about to ask that question when Anakin fell out of his chair, looking dazed, tears spilling down his cheeks. 

Eyes widening in alarm, Rex kneeled next to his friend and tried to assess what was wrong. Anakin choked and sobbed and Rex panicked, not knowing how to deal with this. He could handle battle droids and Separatists any day, but this? This was _way_ outside of his league. Yelling into the hall for someone to get some medics in here, he turned back to the General, who had started to writhe and scream on the floor. If by some miracle, Rex wasn’t worried before, he sure was now. 

Panic filled him. What was happening?! Forcing himself to breathe, he assessed the situation. 

Was it a heart attack? No, he decided. Stroke? Also no. Seizure? He didn’t think so. Then, it hit him. The wild eyes, staring at everything and nothing, the screaming, the fear and the pain, they all pointed to a PTSD flashback. Rex had heard of these, being on the battlefield and all. He had heard unfortunate tales of clones killing their entire battalion after particularly bad flashbacks.

What did he do? What did he do?! 

Anakin’s screams only got louder, more desperate. Each feral screech tore Rex up from the inside, each pained thrash killing him more than any droid could. To his relief, Jedi Masters Yoda, Mace Windu, and General Kenobi rushed into the room, followed by a team of medics a few minutes later. He thinks Yoda tried to talk to Skywalker, but Rex couldn’t focus on anything but his friend, who let out small, fragile wails for his mother in between agonized screams. The medics tried to grab him, which only made Anakin panic more, and the next thing Rex knew he was being flung against the wall so hard the breath was driven from his lungs.

“Anakin!” He choked out, fearing for both of their lives at this point. It occurred to Rex that Anakin could probably kill them all, whether that be by accident or on purpose.

Mace Windu was speaking, but Rex couldn’t make out the words; he was too panicked.

Suddenly, the invisible grip of the Force weakened, allowing them to fall back to the ground. Rex panted heavily, distantly noting that the Medics had gotten Anakin onto a stretcher and were moving away. 

Staring numbly at his still-screaming friend, he watched as the Medics rushed out of the room, moving farther and farther away until Rex couldn’t even hear Anakin’s screams, though they still echoed in his head.

Picking himself up from the floor, he gazed wearily around the room. One of the Medics that had stayed behind turned to him and rushed over. Rex stumbled into him, unable to process what had just happened. He had just been sitting there, talking, and Anakin had just…

Distantly he could hear the Medic talking to him, but it sounded far away. 

_Shock,_ he realized. _He was going into shock._

Allowing the Medic to lead him to an unoccupied room, Rex simply stared at the wall blankly while he was treated.

**Author's Note:**

> This work will be on and off for a while, I don’t really know where I want to go with this, but I do hope you guys enjoy it :)
> 
> Also, check out the work this came from, The Adventures of Anakin and Rex


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